Two-thousand years ago, Lao-tzu once said in Tao Te Ching: "The Tao gives birth to One. One gives birth to Two. Two gives birth to Three. Three gives birth to all things." Such is life everlasting, infinitely multi- plying. Every time I think of I am inexplicably moved, in awe of the mystical conception of the natural world through "Tao". In mathematics, numbers are an abstract concept. Numerals are symbols represent- ing numbers. In painting, throughout the ages, do we not also use words such as "abstract" and "symbol- ism"? As we usually use different colors, is it not through mixing varying quantities of primary reds, yel- lows, and blues? My fascination with this series of thoughts gradually inspired me to use "dot" to repre- sent a unit of symbol to create my work.

Multiplication leads to variation in living things, thus generating a colorful natural world. My apprecia- tion of nature inadvertently percolates into my work. I like to directly paint on an unprimed canvas, forc- ing myself to be unable to revise. I respect every mark that appears from the tip of my brush, accepting the emergence of mistakes. To me, every dot that I render contains life and its own consciousness. Their existence deserves my recognition.

It is unknown when mankind started have "consciousness"; consciousness to the self, to time, and to the inevitability of death. Forty thousand years ago, a man placed pigments onto cave walls with his bare hands. Painting is born the moment he left his handprint. When people realized their mortality, they desire to depict their own bodies; When humans realized the mortality of the animals they admired, they desire to depict their form as well. This allows continuation.

In a sense, drawing can be understood as a process of replication. When I continue to replicate the same motion, uninterruptedly dotting and dotting more, there is a mysterious force that takes me back in time, back into that moment forty thousand years ago. I deeply believe this is the force of inherent human na- ture. Working on the surface of a canvas, I am trying to understand my own inherent qualities, which changes unpredictably, yet abides by a law.

Often I feel that I do not own control over the canvas. I am merely a worker summoned by it. At the mo- ment I mark the first dot, its final form is determined. I have always thought that my work is full of life -- like a beehive, with hard work and labor there is no need pre-design the architecture of the hive. In my process, I do not intentionally choose colors. Before I start to paint, I select a group colors I like and ran- domly pick from that group as I work. I try to replace physical mixing with optical mixing. In other words, I put two colors side by side that do no overlap, producing the illusion of mixing when seen from a distance. As a viewer shifts to different angles and distances, the hundreds and thousands of dots cease- lessly continues to alter themselves.